


4 am

by thursdayknight



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Boys Kissing, Dreaming, Drinking, Jaskier POV, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Kissing, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22237888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thursdayknight/pseuds/thursdayknight
Summary: Jaskier finally gets to kiss Geralt.But only in his dreams.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 104





	4 am

It's four am, long past the time of day anybody would be capable of making good decisions. Not that Jaskier is _ever_ any good at making good decisions, regardless of things like time of day or level of sobriety and _actually,_ he's made some of his _worst_ decisions when the sun was high in the sky and he was completely sober, thank you very much, so four am, four pm, six drinks or no drinks, it would never have mattered, he'd have wound up here in front of Geralt's door either way so he takes a deep breath, pushes his shoulders back and knocks politely on the door.

But it's four am, so Geralt's probably asleep (asleep or being _stubborn_ as usual) and there's no response so he knocks a little louder.

Still, _again,_ there's no response so Jaskier takes a second, puffs himself up a little, gives himself the best, most convincing pep talk he can manage when his brain is taking a second or longer for each individual word to rise through all the noise around it and again he knocks a little louder. 

There's _still_ no response even to _that_ so he drops all pretense of politeness, of propriety (after all, it is _four am) a_ nd he resorts to banging his non-dominant hand on the door like he means to break it. The door, not his hand - he's not an animal. And he still sorta needs both hands to play his lute - as well as for other pleasurable things - so. 

He bangs on the door without a pause; his fist starts to _hurt_ but he keeps going anyway, determined in his mission.

 _BANG!_

His fists hit the door. No response.

_BANG! BANG!_

Still no response.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

_Nothing._

He's about to add yelling Geralt's name to his repertoire when the door slowly cracks open to reveal a… well, Jaskier would say to reveal a very cross and put out looking Geralt, but then that's just sort of his face's default state now isn't it?

 _"It's four in the morning,"_ Geralt says, his sleep stiff voice so deep and rumbling the people on the floor below them can probably feel it in their _bones_ and he says it like it's an explanation to some question Jaskier didn't ask rather than the simple statement of fact that it is; this leaves Jaskier thrown off, his alcohol-soaked brain scrambling to come up with something to say, but he winds up going with: 

"We almost got killed by an Echinops today! We were almost _stabbed to death by dozens of sharp spines!"_ Because, well, they _were._ And don't get him wrong, it's great song material, he knows that he'll come with something _brilliant_ by tomorrow but - they almost died _today_ so he has other thoughts on his mind right now than _songwriting._

"And this brought you to my room because?" 

_"Because we almost died today!"_

Geralt sighs in that world-weary, woe-is-me, the weight-of-the-whole-world-is-on-my-shoulders-even-though-I-pretend-I-don't-care way that only he seems to be able to pull off and he says, "You're not going to leave me alone tonight, are you?" But, even as the words leave his lips, even as his words are laced with a heavy, iron-weighted sort of disdain, he's swinging back from the door to let Jaskier in, like he's accepted that this is his fate and at this point he's just going to give in to it.

Jaskier follows him in, wishing fate was that kind but it isn't. He knows it isn't, because it just _isn't,_ hasn't ever been, not to him, but here he is anyway because the second Geralt had shown up in his life the only thing he'd been able to think was, "So I think I have to follow you now," and that's the way its' been on and off since that day, where Geralt goes, he follows. And the off?

That's never been Jaskier's idea.

But then, Jaskier's never really been what you'd call a man of ideas, he's more into action, more into just doing whatever moves him in the moment and right now… right now… well, right now he can't stop staring at Geralt's lips. And it's been years. And they're alone in a room in an inn and they almost _died_ earlier today and - 

Fuck it.

He strides across the room, getting closer to Geralt than maybe he's ever been and he intends to kiss him, to kiss him and to never let him go, but once he's there he hesitates, he hesitates, just breathing in the same air as the man he's been obsessed with for years, written songs for, would die for - he hesitates, but Geralt doesn't. 

Geralt groans in this way Jaskier is sure he'd better understand if he were less drunk and he wraps his arms around Jaskier's waist, pulls him close, then closer, slides a hand up his spine and kisses him with a sort of force that's just this side of bruising and -

Jaskier feels himself roll over, feels his face make contact with the edge of his pillow and his eyes open slowly, so slowly it's like his brain doesn't want to give up his dream - because that's what it was - a dream. That's all that it was - a dream. A dream is all it _ever_ is.

He's in bed in his own room and Geralt is still down the hall in his. 

Jaskier licks his kiss starved lips and sighs. 

He doesn't get up.


End file.
